Making Time for the Camino
Recently someone said to me, “Have a great holiday.”
“It’s not a holiday,” I laughed. “Walking 800 kilometres is no rest cure!”
For more than 20 years, the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain has been quietly waiting on my horizon. I can’t even remember what first drew me to it, but every time I heard someone say 'Camino' my ears stretched out on sticks to catch every word. Now, after two decades of dreaming, I’ve made the time to go, choosing to travel on my own.
What Is the Camino?
Since the Middle Ages, pilgrims have walked to Santiago de Compostela, where St James is said to be buried.
In earlier centuries the journey was often about faith or penance. Today, thousands of people from every corner of the world take to “the Way.” Their reasons are many: spiritual searching, recovery after loss or trauma, the challenge of endurance, the lure of adventure, the satisfaction of ticking off a bucket-list goal, or a mix of some of the above.
Whatever the motivation, the Camino is not a casual stroll. It tests your resilience and fortitude. It strips away distraction. And it gives you time—to think, to reset, to cast off your ‘normal’ life and just ‘be’.
The Route Ahead
There are many routes to Santiago. The most popular, the Camino Francés, begins at the foot of the French Pyrenees and stretches roughly 800 kilometres across northern Spain. Other trails start in Portugal or along the northern coast of Spain, but whichever path you choose, the daily rhythm is the same: walking, eating, resting, reflecting, and walking again.
Many people cover the Francés route in about 33–35 days, though there are no rules. Some walk 30 + kilometres in a day, others only 10. I’m aiming to average 15-20 km per day, with the occasional rest day as needed. That’s one of the Camino’s quiet lessons: progress doesn’t look the same for everyone.
Preparation and Surprises
Preparing for a long-distance walk requires more than good intentions. For months I’ve been extending my regular walks, varying the terrain, and building stamina with a pack. Then there’s been the online forums, books, webinars, and adding Spanish lessons into my daily mix (thank you, Duolingo). And of course, gear is important.
One surprise during my research was discovering, after I’d already spent cash on new merino clothing, that merino isn’t always the best base layer. On raincoat-clad days when sweat can’t evaporate, fast-drying specialist polyester garments are far more effective than merino at wicking away moisture.
As in life, no matter how well prepared we are, there will be many unknowns. How will I handle the crowded albergues (pilgrim hostels)? Will my ear plugs be enough to block out the snoring? Will I feel like giving up if it rains for days? Will I always find a bed? I’ve only booked the first three nights, to get me over the Pyrenees.
That uncertainty is part of the attraction—the challenge of pushing boundaries, of stepping outside my ‘normal’. Will I be resilient enough? Fit enough? Only time, that wonderful, immeasurable and intangible topic I’ve spent years studying, will give the answer—as the trail unwinds.
Lessons in Flexibility
Some pilgrims carry everything on their backs—about 7 or 8 kg is the recommended weight. A second group of pilgrims book only one night ahead, their backpack is transported forward, and they only carry a day bag. (This is my grand plan!) Others have all their accommodation and bag transfers booked before they leave home.
Even the best-laid plans may change. As I write, wildfires in northern Spain are altering pilgrims' plans. Some have been transported around the fires, others have chosen different trails. It’s another metaphor for life: you may not always get to your destination the way you first imagined, but the journey still holds value.
Making Time for What Matters
This adventure has been a long time coming. For 20 years other responsibilities took precedence. The Camino was just a dream. It’s taken a significant commitment of time and money to organise and finally it’s within finger-tip reach. But there are still many unknowns, and not everyone completes.
I see undertaking this pilgrimage as a metaphor for life: nothing is certain but let that not be a reason to play safe. It’s a grand undertaking, but even if something goes wrong, I’ll be living life to the full. At 77, I'm certainly not ready to slow down!
In the words of George Bernard Shore: I want to be thoroughly used up when I die.”
And from Helen Keller: "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure."